“Hurry off your dress, dear! Mrs. Jocelyn has sent for us to come up to dinner. She says she has been trying to get us by telephone for the last hour.”
“Chris is over at the hospital,” volunteered Polly, slyly slipping her letter, face down, under her glove-box before running to fetch a fresh white frock.
“No, he has just come home with me,” Mrs. Dudley replied. “He said he couldn’t persuade you to go out this afternoon. Don’t you feel well? Your cheeks are flushed,—and your pulse is a little quick,” her fingers on the small wrist.
“Oh, I’m all right!” insisted Polly, forcing a smile, and pulling away, to guard against further questioning.
Why should this invitation have come just now—to make it harder, oh, so much harder, for her to leave them all!
CHAPTER XX
MRS. JOCELYN’S DINNER-PARTY
Leonora met Polly at the door, slipping ahead of the maid to catch her in an ecstatic embrace, and to let go a joyful whisper in her ear.